


Between a rock and

by hitomishiga



Category: Monster Girls | Monster Boys, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Monsters, Reader-Insert, Size Difference, Teratophilia, implied non-human reader, meet cute, rock monster, useless lesbian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 04:29:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19804786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitomishiga/pseuds/hitomishiga
Summary: The girl down the hall is breathtaking. Literally statuesque. You just can’t stop staring.What a gay predicament.-Short and simple reader x rock monster girl fic, leaving most to the imagination.





	Between a rock and

**Author's Note:**

> *makes a reader insert fic so fucking niche only two people on earth relate to it*

The girl down the hall is utterly  _ breathtaking _ . That’s in the kindest sense of the term. Even if you weren’t such a useless lesbian for big tall strong women who laughed at stupid jokes and tripped over their own feet when they catch you looking, even if you weren’t all that, she’d still be a sight. Impossible to miss, that’s for sure. 

Nearly breaking seven feet, she has to duck under every single doorframe she comes across, which, you think, must suck immensely in a very real sense but it’s also kind of cute in a selfish way. She’s broad, too; all solid underneath a rough, cracked surface of stone. Like - like a statue, come to life. Literally statuesque. 

You’re sure that people must stare, but you’re not stupid enough to think every stare has quite the same amount of awe and puppy love as yours, so you always make sure to jerk your head away when you catch yourself staring too long. 

It’s hard. You want to commit every inch of her to memory, but that’s creepy. You know that one. You also don’t want her to feel like you  _ don’t _ enjoy looking. 

What a gay predicament. 

The girl down the hall is leaving her dorm again, and you watch with a bemused little smile that you can’t help as she dances out the door to avoid banging her head on the frame, and succeeds instead in twisting her broad-shouldered frame around and knocking the little cork board off the door. Even as clumsy as she is, she’s still kind of graceful. 

She catches you looking, and rubs the back of her head (hairless, of course, but you wonder what it’d be like to rub your thumbs over the bumps and crevices formed from intertwining rocks) and says, 

“Guess I should really ask for a bigger door, huh.”

Her voice literally sounds like gravel. Your first thought is, ten pack smoker, but then you run it through in your head and no, it’s just that her whole voicebox deal is probably also made of rocks and it’s so  _ interesting _ . Different. And that awkward smile, the way everything shifts and moves… you want to study it. And not just in a first-crush kind of way. It’s fascinating. 

She takes your staring in stride, to her credit, and fixes up her door without breaking face. Oh. Oh shit. People always warned you against being creepy. Don’t stare, they’d say, don’t even look people in the eyes. And here you are.

“Uh, yes.” You say, intelligently. “You’re very tall.”

Hm. 

She laughs a little, like she always does, but it’s not a good laugh. It’s an I-fucked-up laugh. You recognise it because, sometimes, it’s your laugh. 

“I sure am… tall.” She says in response, still not looking at you. And now it’s your turn. 

“I think tall is nice,” you say. 

“... ok?”

You feel yourself flush, as hard as it is to see on your covered face. “S-sorry, I just didn’t want you to think - you know, creepy - I mean, I’m really bad with words, sometimes I just… blurt out the first thing… on my mind?”

She’s drawn closer without you knowing, and you have to fight down more blood rising to your cheeks. It’s not like your daydream just now, the one where she looks down at you like how you look at her, and says something suave and then takes you to her bedroom (and then the dream abruptly ends, right there, no collecting go no passing two hundred), but she’s  _ looking _ at you all the same. Probably thinking, wow what a loser. 

It’s ok. You’re used to those kind of thoughts. And words. 

Ah, to hell with it. 

Words fail, so now it’s down to actions. You unwind the bandage over your face to make a point and watch as her face turns from forced pleasantry to genuine sympathy. She looks down (you feel it, more than  _ see _ it, what with the stone eyes and all) at the patches on your cheeks, and your eyes, and her mouth forms a little ‘o’.

“You’re like me.”

You know what she means. Not  _ like _ like her. Though you do  _ like _ like her, as in, potentially romantic, but - that’s beside the point. You may not be seven feet of pure rocky muscle, but…

“A-a little, yeah.” You bob your head down, a habit borne from years of doing the Wrong Thing, but she just bends down with hands on knees to catch your eye all the same. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off weird, I just - it’s how I -“

“No, I get it.” Her smile is genuine. She makes eye contact with you. Nothing happens, because she’s already stone. “I’m Natalie.”

“I know.” You say. “Shit, I mean, it’s on your door, so it’s… Y’know...”

Natalie laughs for real this time, drawing back up to her full height. She doesn’t hate you. 

Oh god, she doesn’t hate you. 

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name? Oh, wait, I forgot class! Oh my gosh! Hey, sorry, I really need to run, can I count on catching you at the cafeteria downstairs in, like, an hour and a half?” She takes your hand in a friendly manner as she says this, then sprints for the elevator before it leaves without her (a pain you know full well, after mornings waking late). 

As you’re covering your face back up, you smile. She doesn’t hate you. And in an hour and a half, maybe, you might count on making a friend. 

Sure, it’s not  _ girlfriend _ . But it’s getting there. 

(... actually, maybe you’ll just go with the sunglasses today)

**Author's Note:**

> perhaps this was a little on obtuse and high brow for my first foray into this genre/fandom, but...I had a Concept  
> it’s purposely left open and vague to interpretation, especially as to the nature of the reader insert. feel free to make your own.


End file.
